


Chemistry

by annejumps



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Armpit Kink, Bottom!Eames, Community: kink_bingo, Crack, Dream Sex, Fluff, Gun Kink, Humor, Leather Kink, M/M, Pasties, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is it supposed to work like this?” Arthur said with a frown. “I thought we were just supposed to be horny.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chemistry

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) Round 5 for the square _drugs/aphrodisiacs_ (although I've gotten bingo twice; this is sort of a bonus). Beta'd by [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/pseuds/anatsuno).

“You do understand I wouldn’t let just anyone do this, right?”

“Of course, Arthur. Relax, sweetheart. Let me do this for you.”

“For you, you mean,” Arthur teased.

“For both of us,” Eames amended. “You’ll love it, I know.”

“I don’t think we really need an aphrodisiac, to be honest.” Arthur stretched back in his lawn chair, one arm outstretched for Eames to slip in his line. They were going to use his subconscious for Eames’ dream; Arthur was also the architect.

“Oh, neither do I, but it _is_ fun.”

“So you’ve done it before?”

“Once or twice,” Eames said with a shrug. Arthur raised a brow. “All right, a few times. Aphrodisiacs are extremely common in this industry, you know.”

“I’m well aware,” Arthur said dryly.

“I’m surprised you haven’t used them before,” Eames remarked, sitting back in his own chair.

“What can I say? I have common sense,” Arthur said, and then he woke up in the dream.

They were in the first hotel room they’d slept in together, standing near the bed. Eames had just told him to put them in a bedroom, and apparently that was what his subconscious came up with. “Very sweet, darling,” Eames said.

Arthur turned to see that Eames was shirtless, and wearing pasties. Red velvet pasties, shaped like hearts. With tassels.

“Nice,” Arthur said after a moment. Eames looked down at himself.

“I didn’t do that,” Eames said in a tone of mild surprise. “I may have done that, though,” he remarked, gesturing to Arthur’s pants. Arthur’s black leather pants, and black leather boots. “But the pasties are yours. I do like the hearts.” He moved his torso to cause the tassels to swing in circles, first clockwise, then counterclockwise. Arthur pressed a hand to his face. He looked down at himself again to see that he was wearing a white tank.

“I don’t see your arm muscles enough,” Eames offered by way of explanation. “I don’t think I did that on purpose, though.”

“Is it supposed to work like this?” Arthur said with a frown. “I thought we were just supposed to be horny.”

“I’m horny,” Eames said, looking down. “Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, “but I also really need to lick your armpit right now.” He paused, jaw dropping slightly. “I... did not think I was going to say that.”

Eames tilted his head, looking interested and curious. “I’d love it if you licked my armpit. I’d love it if you did more things to me, period.”

“Really? Do I... do I not do enough to you?” Arthur stepped closer. “I would do so many things to you, Eames, just say the word.”

Eames sighed. “I’m so glad to hear that. I want your attention, Arthur. Sometimes, I need it. Every little annoyance I send your way is proof of that.”

“I know that, Eames,” Arthur replied. “Are we supposed to be having this discussion? I thought there would be more making out.”

“On it.” Eames reached for Arthur’s shirt and pulled it off, and Arthur kissed him. Eames groped his ass in the leather pants, making Arthur rub against him, restless, the pasties digging into his skin.

“What do you want?” Arthur asked. “I’ll do whatever you want, just tell me.”

“I have to tell you, Arthur, I’m never so happy as when you fuck me.” Eames looked startled at having said that, and blushed.

“You’re blushing. I love it when you blush. I love it when you react and you can’t help it,” Arthur said, between kisses to Eames’ stubbled jaw. Eames’ hands scrabbled at his back.

Arthur looked to the bed, which was now larger, and with black satin sheets. He moved to take off his boots, hasty, until Eames said, “No, don’t, Arthur, leave them on. Fuck me with your boots on.”

“I want to suck you first, I love sucking you,” Arthur said, tugging Eames to the bed and unbuckling his belt, pulling down his trousers. Eames’ pasties were gone.

“I will not argue,” Eames said, breathless. “I think your mouth is lovely.” He gasped as Arthur’s mouth found him, greedy.

Arthur’s mouth was working busily away when Eames said, “Arthur, I hate to interrupt you, I really do, but -- we have a visitor.”

Drawing off, puzzled, Arthur looked up at Eames, and then followed his gaze. Arthur’s Glock hung in the air near them. Arthur reached out to take it.

“Perhaps your subconscious guesses how much I like seeing you handle a weapon,” Eames said, voice low with a hint of amusement, sitting up on his elbows.

“Maybe my subconscious wants to get your adrenaline flowing,” Arthur answered, looking the gun over.

“I’ve been shot out of dreams often enough, Arthur, a gun by itself doesn’t thrill me anymore. You holding one, though, that’s the key,” Eames said, breath hitching as Arthur drew the barrel over his stomach. “You can be so ruthless.”

Arthur slid the gun up Eames’ chest, the cool metal gliding over his nipples before he stroked the barrel up Eames’ neck and over his jaw, pressing the muzzle against his plush lower lip. Eames looked at him, eyes dark, and opened his mouth to take it in. Slowly, Arthur slid it in, watching Eames’ nostrils flare slightly. Arthur bent down again and took Eames in his mouth once more; Eames was harder now, his cockhead slick. His groan around the gun was muffled.

Arthur moved the gun in time with his passes over Eames’ cock; the synchronization mesmerized him, and when Eames came he felt as though the gun was somehow coming too, although when he sat up to examine it, it looked the same.

“We’re not done here,” Arthur said.

“No, we’re not,” said Eames, who was now completely naked. “I want you to fuck me while holding that gun to my head.”

“I’d ask what’s in this aphrodisiac but that actually isn’t a completely bizarre request, coming from you,” Arthur said.

“I do think there’s something in it,” Eames said, laying back, bracketing Arthur’s hips with his legs. Arthur unzipped his leather pants and thought up a bottle of lube. While he could always think the lube onto himself or inside of Eames, he kind of enjoyed the prep.

Slicked, he rested his weight on one hand and with the other held the Glock’s muzzle to Eames’ temple. He sank into him, watched his lashes flutter. Eames’ skin was beautifully set off by the black satin sheets, which matched his tattoos. Eames arched in abandon as he rolled his hips up against Arthur, and Arthur, suddenly getting a hunch, asked, “What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I want you madly, I want you so much it frightens me.” Eames blinked, panting. “I desperately want you to feel the same.” He bit his lip. “Christ, I couldn’t stop myself from saying that.”

“There’s something in this.”

“Darling, do you feel the same? Arthur.”

“I do.” Arthur slid the muzzle down Eames’ temple to his cheek, with the delicacy of a gentle kiss. He planted his knees further apart, fucking more deeply into Eames. He felt a sudden strong, unbearable urge to tell Eames everything he felt about him, and choked, closing his eyes tightly for a moment. “Eames, you mean more to me than -- fuck, it all sounds wrong, it’s not enough, I can’t --” Eames pulled his head down and kissed him, the gun falling to the bed, and Arthur felt a swelling of heat and bliss all through him, the aphrodisiac infusing the dream at full force, shaking all through them.

They came what seemed like ages later, in a shivering quake, Arthur feeling it pulse all through them, with a strange hot prickling all over his skin. He felt it gradually ebbing from him, and he collapsed onto Eames, who stroked his skin, and then murmured, “Darling, look.”

Arthur opened his eyes, and looked to Eames, who was looking at Arthur’s arm. All over his skin, Arthur realized, was written Eames’ name, in raised pink welts, in Eames’ handwriting. “Did you do that?” Arthur asked, hoarse.

“No, you did,” Eames said, smiling, eyes warm with more affection than Arthur had ever seen directed towards him.

“What else is in this stuff?” Arthur wondered.

“I think a truth serum may be mixed in,” Eames said. “Let me try something.” He closed his eyes, and as Arthur watched, Arthur’s name in Arthur’s handwriting bloomed in welts over Eames’ skin.

“Truth serum? Shit.”

“A weak one, or not much of it, but enough to cause us to reveal a bit more of ourselves than we might with an aphrodisiac alone.” Eames sighed. “Thank god it’s you, though. With anyone else I’d be mortified.”

“Likewise,” Arthur said. “Eames, can I lick your armpit?”

“Of course, kitten,” Eames replied, raising his arms. With a contented sound, Arthur withdrew and bent to lick him.

“I’m a bit disappointed in us,” Eames remarked. “The dream world, an aphrodisiac, and a supposed truth serum at our disposal and we dream of things we could do topside. Even the marks would be possible topside.”

Arthur raised his head. “Maybe they’re just things we wanted to do topside.”

“They must be, but can’t we do something fantastic and ridiculous before we wake up?”

“Think of something, then. Your heart’s desire.”

“All right.” Eames closed his eyes.

Arthur waited, expecting who knows what -- a cacophony of sounds, bright lights and colors, exotic creatures, evidence of some dark fantasy or other, something Eames would never tell him. He had to admit, he was wildly curious.

He kept waiting, and then Eames opened his eyes, looking expectant.

“Well?” Arthur asked. “There’s not anything different that I can tell.”

Eames frowned, and looked around. “Hm. I’ll admit I wasn’t trying to think of anything in particular, but surely--” He rubbed his face, and Arthur started. He pointed, and Eames reached for his hand.

“Well. Something is different, after all,” Eames said, holding up Arthur’s hand. On which gleamed a wedding band. That matched the one Eames was wearing.

“Eames,” Arthur said with a snort. “Really? The entirety of your imagination at hand and this is how your heart’s desire manifests?”

But he was smiling. He was almost hurting with it.

Eames sat up and kissed him.

“It’s too soon for us topside, I think,” Eames said a moment later, voice husky. “I don’t want things to be strange between us, up there, before it’s time.”

“But this -- is what you want.” Arthur looked at their hands again.

He nodded. “Yes, I suppose it must be.”

“Things are already strange up there between us, Eames.”

Eames laughed. “I know, darling.”

“But I can see... that happening. For us.” Almost shy, he kissed Eames again, as the music started.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [anatsuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatsuno/), [Amy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asunder), and Liz for all your help!


End file.
